"Tris Prior" Marcus says, calling me up to the stage to choose my faction.

To choose my destiny.

I walk up, keeping my eyes downcast, and shakily grab the knife from him. I move my feet one in front of the other until I stand between the bowl of coals and the bowl of gray stones. Should I choose the comfortable life I've always known, even if I don't feel like I belong? Or should I choose Dauntless?

I close my eyes and take a deep breath as I pull the blade across my palm in one swift motion. My bloodied hand balls up into a fist and I hold it over the Abnegation stones.

I could never leave my faction. I could never hurt my parents the way Caleb just hurt them by choosing Erudite.

My fist opens up and my blood drips into the bowl, racing down the sides of the smooth stones.

There are silent nods and small smiles from the Abnegation; at least I know I'm welcome here.

I hand the knife over and walk over to the section of gray-robed people and take my seat behind them.

After the Choosing Ceremony, we stay behind to clean the bowls and stack chairs.

Stacking the hundreds of chairs is monotonous, but I like the simple task; it gives me time to think.

I can't help but notice the sinking feeling in my chest. Did I choose the wrong faction? My mind wanders to the Dauntless, and I yearn to be free like them. On the other hand, I want to be selfless like my parents. I look over to Susan who is now scrubbing away at one of the human-sized metal bowls. I wish that my choice was as easy as hers; she is Abnegation through and through.

I quickly push away the thought. Envy is self-indulgent, something my faction frowns upon.

After the cleaning is done, we all walk done the stairs – our feet moving in unison – and crowd onto the buses.

We arrive at Abnegation headquarters and Marcus leads us into a room that I have never seen before. There are ten plain bunks lined up along the long gray walls, which is the extent of the furnishings in the room; typical for my faction. He turns around in the center of the room and faces the six of us.

"I will be overseeing your initiation." Marcus says, "This is where you'll be sleeping for the next week and a half; bathrooms are down the hall."

He walks past us and heads toward the door. Right before he leaves, he looks back at us, "You'll be leaving for the factionless sector in half an hour to hand out food and clothing. The Abnegation involved in that charity will take you there."

And with that, he's gone.

"How are you?" Susan asks in her quiet voice.

"I'm fine, how are you?" I reply.

The formal conversations that the Abnegation have are painful for me to carry.

Her eyes bore into my skin, peeling me layer from layer until they find the truth. I am not fine. I am not okay.

It immediately fades and a warm, comforting smile spreads across her lips and she walks over to her bunk, perching on the edge of the mattress and securing a piece of loose hair into her tight knot.

I go over and lie down on my own bunk, folding my hands over my stomach and staring at the ceiling.

Part of me is glad that I chose this faction; at least my parents can say that one of their kids isn't a traitor. And I'm glad that I can be here for Susan, what with her brother leaving the faction too. It makes me wonder, how long ago did our brothers find out that they were going to leave us? Was it after the aptitude test, or before then? I remember the stacks of books sitting on Caleb's desk and regret not noticing his Erudite traits sooner.

Is Susan thinking the same thing about Robert?

I'll never know.

Another part of me feels trapped. Constrained. Caged.

There's a light knock at the door, and a small woman enters.

"My name is Lisa. Come; we'll walk to the factionless sector of the city." she says in her high soprano.

When we reach what looks like just another crumbling building, we stop and are given blankets, food, and clothing. Lisa opens the door and we walk in, a rank smell engulfing us. I don't know what I was expecting, but this is surely not it. A bunch of factionless mill about the room, chatting. It seems almost… normal; which is a big shock when you're told that being factionless is worse than death.

I start to hand out some blankets and then I see him. He had just finished a conversation with an older woman and was looking around the room when his eyes settled on me. He's tall and handsome, with dark blue eyes and a hooked nose. He's dressed in all black, and his clothes aren't ratty so I assume that he's Dauntless, but his close cropped hair mirrors that of the Abnegation.

I find myself walking towards him, our eyes locked on each other. When there are only a few feet left between us, I stop.

"Here." I say, handing him a can of soup.

"Awfully bold for a Stiff, aren't you?"

I cringe at the name and bite my lip, dropping my gaze.

"I'm Four." he says, tossing the can to a factionless man leaning on the wall closest to us.

"Beatrice." I respond. "How are you, Four?"

He shakes his head and laughs, "Typical Abnegation conversation starters get you nowhere, Beatrice; stifles the conversation."

I nod, not only to be polite, but because I agree with him. How am I supposed to be myself when my faction is strangling me?

He looks at me, analyzing my face. "You're different, Stiff."

I freeze, feeling like he can see that I'm Divergent just by looking at me. "It's Beatrice." I say almost under my breath. I find it hard to keep the composure that my faction has always practiced, and the longer he looks at me, the more I feel like I'm about to burst.

"Come on Beatrice, we need to do some street cleanup before it gets dark." Lisa calls.

I give the rest of my supplies to a family in the corner. "Goodbye, Four." I say over my shoulder as I walk to meet Susan at the door.

There's something about him… I can't put my finger on it just yet, but I'll figure it out soon enough. After all, I will be spending most of my time helping the factionless during initiation.

Author's Note: This was difficult to write, and I don't know if I'm going to continue it. Reviews would really help!